Raindrops
by Yuechum
Summary: He felt himself being lulled into an eternal sleep by the rocking of the boat, urging him to forget all that he once knew.


Hello! I was listening to music and the OST from Jigoku Shoujo came up, making me want to write this. It's a short one-shot, a spin-off to Sunset. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!

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Tsuna had been a simple boy, one who wanted nothing more than the approval of his parents and a friend to turn to. The world hadn't granted him his desires, and he felt the loneliness seep into his bones at every waking moment. As he grew, he saw the disappointed eyes of his mother shift easily into loving ones from years of practice, while his father's calls had become more of a rarity. (In the future, when Iemitsu said he loved them, he sneered at the lies that never stopped coming from his mouth.)

In his teenage years, instead of a god granting his wishes, a hitman in the form of an infant arrived to drill the path to his future in him. He had shrieked at the incredulity of it all and called the infant (not an infant, he would realize soon) a demon, wondering how his fate had succumbed him to this. But Reborn had a mission to accomplish, and he never did tolerate failure. Tsuna would have loved him for it, if only he hadn't had to wake up to a hammer every morning.

"You'll be the Vongola Decimo," Reborn had said in the night, serene and quiet. Tsuna sighed, hearing the line so many times but wanting to refute the statement once more.

"I know," he shifted in his bed, to face the wall that had been a silent support all these years in his childhood when people were always changing.

"But you'll do fine. You'll be a great boss," Reborn whispered so quietly that without these years of training, Tsuna would have missed it.

He turned around abruptly, seeing only the hitman fall asleep. Hearing such praise from Reborn had always been something he treasured, so rare and soft that he was always taken aback by it all. If he cried that night, Reborn didn't say a word the next morning.

As Vongola Decimo in his twenties, Tsuna hadn't changed too deeply. He was still the lonely boy at his core, craving the bonds that made them so human. Reborn had thrust him into a life where people began to gather around him, trusting him with their lives and smiling fondly at him when they thought he wasn't looking. He cherished them so much, that he was terrified of losing them in this unrelenting world of the mafia. He loved them all with every part of his heart and soul that he could, but it was a shame he couldn't give a drop of that same love to himself.

Yuni had held his hand, softly rubbing her thumb in a caressing gesture. Byakuran held him with one arm just a little tighter that night, both looking at him with a fondness sprinkled with pity.

"You never do live long," Byakuran had said softly, a sharp contrast to his boisterous voice during the day. (But Tsuna would realize later how that had merely been a mask to hide his sorrow.)

"In a parallel world, I once told you that the pacifier is greedy," Yuni murmured, "in that world, we were remembering the lives of our other selves, but you die early in that one too."

In the complete darkness of the night, the sky pacifier glowed much brighter.

/

Tsuna remembered the events of his life like the droplets of a rain, moments in time laced with his thoughts and emotions for a brief moment. They were small and disappeared within a second, but they had been there nevertheless.

Before he had opened his eyes, he felt himself being lulled into an eternal sleep by the rocking of the boat, urging him to forget all that he once knew. Instead of a storm like he had wished, the raindrops lessened in number, until his outreached hand came back dry. He hadn't realized where he was going, why he was on a boat feeling as if he had just lost his heart. He opens his eyes then, seeing a bony hand row the boat forward.

He slowly sits up, watching the light of the moon kiss his skin, the river, chillingly tranquil, reflect his soul. He doesn't recognize himself anymore, seeing merely a lonely man with empty eyes and without a heart. When he embraces this fact, the ferryman at his side smiles.


End file.
